


Just the Way You Are

by EdosianOrchids901



Category: Star Trek: Deep Space Nine
Genre: Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Mental Health Issues, POV First Person, Panic Attacks, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-26
Updated: 2018-07-26
Packaged: 2019-06-16 13:30:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 914
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15438069
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EdosianOrchids901/pseuds/EdosianOrchids901
Summary: A letter from Julian to Garak, reassuring him that he's not a burden.





	Just the Way You Are

**Author's Note:**

> Working through my backlog of pieces that I've written over the past couple years. This one was originally penned during June 2017.

My dearest, beloved Elim,

 

As I write this, you’re curled up in bed beside me. Your head resting on my leg, hand still weakly clutching my trousers. Your hair mussed and untidy, displaced from its usually meticulous arrangement thanks to the vicious tremors that plagued you during the attack. 

You give me a weak smile as I tenderly sift the black strands into place. I tell you everything’s all right, that I’m here for you. A few tears spill down your cheeks, and I wipe them away. 

Your strength is giving out; I can tell. Your eyes drift closed as I caress your face, and I ache at the exhaustion evident in every inch of your body. It kills me that you’re still shaking, breaks my heart to hear the ragged edge to your breaths and know that you’re still afraid. 

As sleep begins to drag you under, you mumble that you’re sorry for being a burden. I soothe you, stroke your hair until you’re dozing off. What burden?

Is it a burden that you trust me to stay with you when you’re at your most vulnerable? Is it a burden to be the only one you’ll allow to hold you close? Is it a burden to be the one who can calm and reassure you when you’re afraid?

No. No, being here for you is never a burden, and I wish you could see that. These panic attacks are brutal and horrible for you; I always feel so helpless. And yet, the truth is that I can help you. Even if I can’t take away your pain and fear, I’m glad to sit with you and help you get through the terror. It’s not a burden, Elim. It’s an honor. 

Your breaths finally slow, and I spread the blanket across you. I’m careful to keep the covers from touching your face – I know how much that can startle you if you’re already stressed. You shift slightly and make a soft, contented noise, and I smile. You’re not quite asleep, but no longer entirely coherent. 

Love floods me as I gaze down on you. Even after all this time, it amazes me that you trust me enough for this. That you want me to be with you when you’re panicked, when you’re out of control, when you can no longer function. 

It hurts me to know that you feel ashamed when you have an attack. It isn’t your fault, dearest, and I never think less of you – nor do I regard you as an inconvenience. But despite that, you apologize every time. And why can you never believe me when I say I’m glad to be here for you?

When you’re scared, I never think of you as weak or pathetic. I know you think you are – I’ve heard you spit those words at yourself, countless times. But you aren’t, Garak, and it breaks my heart that you’re always so cruel to yourself. You’re the harshest to yourself when you most need tenderness, gentleness, kindness. 

And that is why I’ll always be here for you. You can’t give that care to yourself – you can’t forgive yourself for losing control. So, let me love you. Let me give you that forgiveness and compassion that you’re incapable of granting to yourself. 

It’s why I’m glad to take you in my arms when you crave stability and comfort. It’s why I murmur soft, soothing words to you when everything becomes too much. It’s why I sit here, watching over you as you sleep.

You look so tired, love. So careworn and weary. Tenderly, lightly, I smooth your hair back and wipe away the sheen of sweat on your face. A tear slips from the corner of your eye, and I capture the droplet with my thumb. 

You’re always so fragile, so vulnerable after these attacks. It’s my privilege to care for you, to comfort you. I think again of your shame at the loss of control, your guilt over needing to be soothed. I shake my head, wondering why you can never freely accept the help I so gladly offer. Why must you always think I’m reluctant to do this?

There’s nowhere else I’d rather be, Elim. I want to be here, at your side. I want to be the one you run to, the one who holds you close and reassures you that you’ll be all right, that you can survive. Why do you think I see you as a burden? How could you possibly think that?

Do you know why I’d happily help you through these struggles for the rest of our lives? It’s because I love you, Elim Garak. My love for you is constant. 

I love you when your eyes flash with delight as we argue over a meal. I love you when we take long walks together. I love you when you let me see your tender side, when you touch me as if I were the most precious treasure in the galaxy. 

And I love you when snap at me in a moment of anger. I love you when nightmares rip you from sleep, and you awaken screaming. I love you when you’re too upset to tolerate my touch. I love you when the panic tears away your sanity, and all you can do is tremble in my arms as we wait for the attack to pass.  
My love for you isn’t going anywhere, and neither am I.

 

Forever yours,  
Julian


End file.
